Remember Our Glory Days?
by buttercupbella
Summary: They aren't over yet. — Natsume/Tsubasa, College AU. For JustSoph.


**Title: **Remember Our Glory Days?  


**Summary: **They aren't over yet. — Natsume/Tsubasa, College AU.

**A**: (Belated) **Merry Christmas, Royce!** :) Thanks for being an awesome part of my and AoGA's 2013! I love youuu, platonically haha. Thanks for being such an amazing friend! Let's kick more ass in 2014, okay?

This is not a real account of Tokyo U (Todai/University of Tokyo). Any descriptions mentioned are created by the author.

* * *

"Hyuuga, Natsume," the name bounces off his tongue lazily. He isn't someone who bothers with introductions; as far as he knows, the person in charge of the residence hall has no business except assign him a specific room. For someone who can afford a condominium in the metro, Natsume is certainly going out of his comfort zone when he finally agrees, grumbling, to his mother's coaxing for him to stay in the dorms.

The lady at the front desk looks up from her papers once she locates the surname. "There. Natsume Hyuuga, in room 7B." She points to the fire exit, where other freshmen are hurriedly dragging their luggage. "Unfortunately, the elevator is still being repaired. You'll have to use the stairs."

Natsume huffs, both in irritation and mild relief. He's lucky he didn't bring a lot of memorabilia and clothes - he only has three backpacks, all of which are stuffed with books, shirts, socks, and toiletries. Of course, Natsume also has a pair of running shoes. Although he already memorized the contents of each textbook that he has, he might still have a use for all of them. He might need to whack or knock some sense into someone later on.

"Man, this sucks," a boy with light brown hair groans to Natsume's left. "It's Tokyo U - I mean, geez, we paid a heck ton of money to climb stairs!"

_Too bad for them,_ Natsume thinks, averting his eyes to escape any form of attention. His scholarships piled up on one another so he wouldn't have to worry about spending a single penny. Perhaps on videogames, yes, but other than that, his ticket to college is practically free. Well, he also has allowance left over from various grants...

Natsume shakes his head at his absurdity. _What a nerd_, others would sneer when they hear his thoughts. By the moment he reaches the seventh and last floor, he can't hide the exhaustion on his face, as evident in the drops of sweat sliding across his forehead and the way he pants. Sometimes Natsume wishes he could've done better at Phys Ed, but then the credits in that class don't really matter when it comes to college application. He could kick ass in Call of Duty and Assassin's Creed, but God forbid he could land a dunk in basketball. It would be a huge miracle if he even manages to make a three pointer.

_7B,_ Natsume repeats in his mind, but it isn't necessary. His room is close by, with the door already wide open. That must be his roommate blasting the Bon Jovi soundtrack throughout the whole building.

Natsume sighs. At least he's trained for all-nighters. He wouldn't go down without an argument, though, because his roommate has a _really _terrible voice and ought to shut up instead of boast of his nonexistent singing skills.

To be courteous, Natsume knocks on the door twice, still heaving from the long hike from floor one. He catches a glimpse of raven hair, similar to his, and when his roommate turns around, he senses relief. "Ah, so you're Natsume," the guy with a tattooed star on his cheek offers him a grin and a hand. Natsume shakes it. "Nice to meet you, I guess we'll be bunking at this place from now on. You're a freshman, eh?"

"Yeah," Natsume puts his bags down on the unmade bed, eyes narrowing at the energy drinks on his roommate's study table turned into landfill of CDs and junk food wrappers. He frowns at the block pictures hung on the wall. "Wait, you aren't one?"

His roommate cheekily laughs. "'Course I'm not. I'm Tsubasa Andou, by the way. Lady downstairs told me they were out of rooms so they placed you here."

"I take it you're a senior," Natsume mutters. Tsubasa nods, throwing him a bottle of Monster. Luckily, he catches it, although weakly.

Tsubasa smiles at him and turns off the Bon Jovi for a while. "I'm pretty sure this is that 'please take care of me' moment."

"What?"

"Whenever you enter a foreign or new territory," Tsubasa says, raising his index finger as if teaching Natsume the basics of college. Natsume glowers. "Aren't you supposed to say that? Besides, I'm _your _senior."

"I never asked to be here," Natsume mumbles. He turns away, deciding to fix his possessions instead of being in a pointless conversation. "What happened to your previous roommate, anyway? I don't recall any provision that allowed students to have a room for themselves."

As Natsume arranges his pocketbooks to a neat pile, he is greeted by silence. He's partly relieved that he effectively shut Tsubasa up, but his unanswered question makes him uneasy. Tsubasa startles him, voice sounding distant as he speaks. "He died a year ago, couldn't breathe while he slept."

That is the precise moment Natsume notices a photo stuck on the wall near his own bed. It was Tsubasa and a blond boy with an ashen face. They were smiling. Natsume's eyes trail back to Tsubasa, who has a similar grin plastered on his face. He's an expert at faking it.

Natsume keeps to himself and doesn't talk any more, except when Tsubasa asks him to accompany him to the convenience store. He declines, too glued to his novel to bother jumping off the bed.

When Tsubasa quietly leaves, he thinks he's good at faking it, too.

* * *

"Wanna go to a party tonight?" Tsubasa slaps Natsume on the back, and Natsume chokes on his breath. The ink smudges on the piece of paper whose cleanliness he has tried so hard to maintain albeit the long and complex solutions he has for math homework problems, and Tsubasa just has to ruin it by being overexcited. Natsume obviously seethes with something even worse than annoyance. "Hey, don't give me that face. You know you have to take a break from all that crap."

"This isn't crap," Natsume manages to mutter in spite of his anger. "It's worth fifty points, compared to that party of yours that's worth none of my shit."

"Whoa, chill," Tsubasa waves his hand to dismiss the heavy atmosphere. "It's a Saturday. Come on, even geniuses need to come out of their shells once in a while."

"I'm perfectly content with being in my shell."

"Classic introversion," Tsubasa chuckles. Natsume scrunches his eyebrows together when Tsubasa darts to his closet and opens it, digging for appropriate clothes.

Natsume runs to him and jerks him off of his wardrobe. His face reddens from embarrassment, but mostly from abhorrence. "What the absolute fuck are you doing?"

Tsubasa takes Natsume's relatively small frame as his advantage, holding off his wrists for good measure. "Princess, we need to get you dressed."

"_Jesus,_" Natsume spits. It's humiliating enough to be held off, and damn Tsubasa for being one of the university's best football players. He could cut Natsume some slack and pretend that the freshman can overpower him. Unfortunately, he's not that sympathetic to begin with. "I have homework. Unlike some asses who go out drunk and get by with a D, I actually have the patience to study."

"Don't you want the D, too?" Tsubasa wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, earning himself a kick in the crotch. Finally, Natsume stands over him, triumphant at his offense that came out of nowhere. He should attempt to engage in martial arts if ever buffoons like Tsubasa would raid his closet again.

Natsume goes back to his desk, ignoring the whimpering Tsubasa on the floor. "Maybe you should ask your gay friends to accompany you. I'm sure they'll want all the fun."

"Which is why I asked you."

Natsume flips him the bird and Tsubasa stops complaining about his tortured bottom. He huffs. "Fuck me? Gladly."

This is going to be a long year.

* * *

Natsume is accurate as ever when he predicts that Tsubasa will come home basked in his alcoholic glory (failure seemed to suit it better). At three am, Natsume jolts awake to the crashes against the door. Tsubasa flicks on the lights absentmindedly and trips over the laundry basket. He lands face-first on Natsume's shirt.

"Mmm," Tsubasa grins, eyes closed in a stupor. "Smells good."

"Get the fuck off of my clothes," Natsume becomes alert when he sees Tsubasa sprawled over his laundry, sniffing at his shirt with interest. There's no way he's snapping into 'awake' mode in the wee hours of the morning, but the situation calls for it. Natsume wrinkles his nose at the whiff of beer. "What an idiot," he says, pulling his shirt from Tsubasa's grasp.

Tsubasa shakes his head. "Don't take it away from meeeee."

"Go to sleep, moron," Natsume mutters in a murderous tone. His eyelids feel heavy, but he isn't giving up. He might just wake up to the sight of Tsubasa's vomit all over the floor. Might as well prevent that from happening. "Help yourself. I'm not lifting you."

"I wanna sleep with youuu, Natsumeee," Tsubasa pays no heed to Natsume and drawls out. "Your bed looks so fluffyyyyy."

Groaning in frustration, Natsume pulls Tsubasa's arm so he can have his peace. He tells himself that he didn't sign up for an ungodly hour shift to take care of a world-class idiot who doesn't know how to handle his drinks. "We have the same mattress," Natsume says while dragging Tsubasa to his side of the room. He really can't believe how troublesome his roommate is. He must have committed a grave mistake for him to be punished like this.

"I'm scaaaared," Tsubasa screeches. "I'll have nightmares again. I'll see him choking —"

"For Pete's sake," Natsume grumbles. Tsubasa's head hits the bed post and he gives a similar response.

Natsume sits on the edge of Tsubasa's bed for a while, cupping a hand over his mouth to hide a yawn. He nearly drifts to sleep while sitting, but the sound of Tsubasa's hiccups awaken him occasionally. However, when he opens his eyes, he is surprised to find that Tsubasa is crying.

Certainly unprepared for this instance, Natsume could only stammer, "W-what? Why are y-you..."

"He's dying," Tsubasa buries his face in his hands, and the action muffles his speech. His voice becomes louder with each succeeding syllable. "_Oh god oh god oh god_ he can't breathe Kaname wake up stay with me please please don't die no —"

Natsume gets on the floor with his knees and starts shaking Tsubasa, fear and panic coursing through his veins. There it is again, the roommate that he previously had. The one who died with constricted lungs. "Tsubasa!"

Natsume's fingers are trembling as he tries to grasp Tsubasa's arm. He never knew that Tsubasa had been deeply traumatized by this Kaname for him to have panic attacks. Perhaps it is just the liquor acting, but Natsume is partly to blame for triggering it.

"Kaname," Tsubasa whispers brokenly, hands covering his ears as he shudders. "Please. Don't leave."

"Kaname isn't here anymore, Tsubasa," Natsume says, surprised that he has the heart to tell him gently. Somehow, he does feel sorry for Tsubasa. "It's Natsume. I won't leave."

Tsubasa leans towards Natsume's shoulder. He opens his mouth in an effort to answer back, but moments of thinking makes him doze off, slumping against Natsume. The latter sighs. He really can't put it against Tsubasa to react like that, even if he desperately wants to drill his pencil on the side of Tsubasa's head as payback for disturbing his sleep.

Natsume yawns one more time and mutters, "You owe me one," before he shuts his own eyes.

* * *

Sometimes, Natsume crosses paths with Tsubasa in the corridors of the university. It's already a huge burden to live with him in the same space, and Natsume doesn't think that he can handle it if he were in the classes Tsubasa is in. Tsubasa taunts him regularly about that morning when they woke up huddled together. "If you wanted to cuddle with me, you should've said so," Tsubasa laughs in his face.

Natsume doesn't speak and he won't. What was he to do in that situation, anyway? Sit idly while his roommate killed himself with memories? Instead of venting his irritation on the taller male, he turns away, heading for the opposite direction in hopes that he wouldn't have to explain. It would just make the panic attacks take place more frequently if ever he does.

Tsubasa is wrong when he assumes that introverts can't have friends. A week after sulking in class and still managing to achieve excellent marks in coursework, Natsume gets cornered by two sophomores, both of whom he has identified to be his classmates in Anatomy and Physiology I. For seemingly sociable people, they pick a horrible choice when they decide to strike a conversation with Natsume.

"Hi!" exclaims the girl with wide, hazel eyes, elbowing her companion to come closer. "I'm Mikan," she introduces herself and points to the guy beside her, "and this is Ruka. And, you are?"

"Natsume." The boy in question shakes Mikan's and Ruka's hands, although not as enthusiastic as they are.

"It's nice to meet you, Natsume," Ruka smiles. Mikan nods in agreement. "We heard from our professor that you were the best in our class of 113 students. How cool is that?"

The news sparks Natsume's interest. "Really?"

Mikan flashes him a thumbs-up. "Yeah, we were going to submit some lab requirements when we overheard the faculty members talking. Apparently, you're the only one who got a 100% in the pre-test, and the prof expects a lot from you this semester."

"So you eavesdropped," Natsume replies with a wry grin.

"Technically, yes," Ruka laughs with ease. "But you have to say you wanted to know that, too. Anyway, cutting to the chase: Mikan and I were wondering if you would like to join the Biology club. Just giving you a heads up; we'll surely be at the Club Fair next week."

"Say, Natsume," Mikan starts. "Are you doing the research or the medicine track? You _are _a Biology major, right?"

"I'm going to medical school," Natsume affirms.

Mikan high-fives Ruka. "Wonderful! We are, too, and we wanted to invite new members. Although we're in Pre-Med, we're currently working on a project on antidepressants."

"What of it?" Natsume asks. A certain raven-haired boy comes to mind, but he shrugs the thought off.

"See, there are a lot of drugs around, but almost all of them have adverse side effects. We're trying to develop something — you could call it an artificial hormone that's designed to shut off certain brain areas that trigger traumas. In fact, we wanted it to mask itself as a biological defense. Mikan, for the most part, is leading the team for anatomical analysis, while I'm more of the chemicals guy."

"So what would you need me for?"

Mikan and Ruka look at each other. "You're intelligent, aren't you? We can't just let that go to waste. Besides, you're earning credentials while you're at it. Lab experience for resumes. If ever we get promoted at a conference, you might just be able to have a golden ticket to the Ivy League unis."

Getting into Yale sounds like a good idea, but that isn't what draws Natsume into their offer. He muses over it for a bit, staring at Mikan's and Ruka's hopeful expressions, and he exhales. "Sure. Count me in."

Natsume is going to pretend that he didn't see Mikan perform an awkward dance for their prowess in salestalk.

* * *

Incredulously, Natsume spits, "You're a member of the Biology club?"

Tsubasa verifies his membership, looking up from the microscope. "I'm not as dumb as you make me out to be," he tells him. Now that he thinks about it, Natsume has no idea what Tsubasa's majoring in. Maybe they should play a round of questions in the dorm so they could, at least, get to know each other better.

Like hell he's going to do that.

Tsubasa, upon seeing the skepticism on Natsume's face, stands up from the stool. "I'm taking up Athletic Training. I was lost on what I wanted to pursue when I was a freshman. But I guess I like education, sports, and science. AT is probably my best bet."

Natsume doesn't respond. Just when he thinks he's escaped Tsubasa, he's clearly disproved again. He occupies the farther area in the laboratory, wary of Tsubasa's gaze. He jolts when Tsubasa speaks. "In case you didn't notice, I'm also aware of my...episodes. The ones that include crying and thrashing around and...and..."

Natsume can tell that Tsubasa has no ability to say _his _name casually. "Kaname?" Natsume lends him a hand, and Tsubasa vehemently nods.

The freshman just shrugs. "I don't really care. I have no business regarding what you're up to."

"Hey, Natsume?"

"What?"

Tsubasa smiles, and the gesture makes Natsume freeze in his tracks just as he is about to grab a specimen.

"Thanks," Tsubasa murmurs. "Thanks for being there that morning."

* * *

October. The month that Natsume dreads the most, mostly for the silliness of costumes and Halloween pranks. As expected, the university students dress up in the most outrageous attires. Most of them resort to cosplay. Natsume actually appreciates those who portray videogame characters, because he knows who they're supposed to be.

Mikan appears among the crowd, waving her hand in the air as she approaches Natsume. "Hey, Natsume! Over here!"

He reluctantly heads toward her direction, where other Biology club members have convened. Ruka is too busy counting off heads, shouting, "Say hell yeah when I say your name! Sumire!"

A series of hell yeah's later, Mikan places her hands on her hips. "Now, you all know, except Natsume here, that it is tradition for the Biology club to enter the most terrifying horror house set up by other clubs. I've already collected a tally of the number of people who fainted in each horror house, and as usual, the Drama club receives the laurels."

_Oh, shit, _Natsume impatiently taps his foot, cold sweat accumulating on his palms. This is not good.

A girl who introduces herself as Nonoko pumps her fist. "Alright! It is also a way for us to calm our nerves after all of those experiments."

_Calm our nerves? You've got to be kidding me. _

"And as per tradition," Ruka glances at Natsume, "we consider this as a rite of passage. Freshmen always lead."

Natsume looks around him as prompted by Ruka's announcement, and their faces say it all. "Hold on a second. I'm the _only _freshman here."

"Exactly," the boy with light brown hair, the one from Natsume's first day at Tokyo U, confirms. 'Koko' is written sloppily across his tag. "You'll be on the frontlines."

"No," Natsume argues. "I'm not doing this."

"You're not, or you can't?" Mikan raises her eyebrow, half-challenging and half-pleading. It's a matter of prides, then. Natsume is not fond of loss. "Come on, Natsume. It's just props."

"And sound effects," a guy named Mochu adds.

"And mist," Sumire says.

"And skeletons," Nonoko hums.

"And the dark," Ruka nods.

"Fuck," Natsume balls his fists to hide the tremors. He hisses at them as he makes his way to the ticket booth, holding his ID out to get a free pass. The other members do the same, trailing behind him. Sumire jumps at the shrill screams that come from inside.

Natsume glares at the doors. Screw Halloween, he would rather be in his room, blocking out all the discordant noises of students who roam the campus in hopes of being scared. The truth is, he isn't afraid of any of the individual horror house components that his co-members have previously mentioned. He's scared out of his wit when they're all put together, suffocating him and letting the unknown close in on him.

The first time Natsume discovered he had claustrophobia, he was in high school, in a similar Halloween setting. He prefers not to remember how he was wedged between two shelves when an earthquake hit Japan in October, and he nearly forgot how to breathe until a stranger pulled him out of the debris and rushed him to the paramedics.

"I'm late for the party!" Tsubasa happily sing-songs, practically bouncing over to his group. A pink-haired female jogs with him. Natsume wrinkles his nose. He never knew that idiots like Tsubasa could find decent women. "This is Misaki," Tsubasa wraps an arm around the girl's shoulders. She immediately aims her fist at his nosebridge. The sight makes Natsume flinch.

Misaki bows at them. "Tsubasa forced me to be here. I was initially going with the Martial Arts club but he just couldn't keep his mouth shut about how fun it would be with you guys."

Mikan laughs. "Don't worry about it! Feel free to join us!"

Tsubasa notices Natsume at the head of the queue. "Whoa, seems like you're excited for the freshman initiation. I can't tell if it's going to be tough on you."

"Shut up."

Misaki strides over to the spot beside Natsume. "Poor kid. I don't want you to go alone in there leading these geniuses." She is in the Martial Arts club, after all. Perhaps she can knock out the pretend ghosts while Natsume attempts to avoid having a seizure. However, Natsume decides against the cowardly act.

"I can handle it," Natsume sneers. "I'm not a kid."

He registers the shock on Misaki's face, but fortunately, she just brushes it off as a sign of immaturity. She refuses to scoot away and makes room for Tsubasa.

Great. Now he's sandwiched between two lovesick seniors who are probably going to be the death of him.

"Come on," Natsume says, feigning bravery. He's shaking inside, his guts turned into delectable Jell-O. "I can't wait to be in there."

* * *

Natsume stumbles to his bed tiredly with a scratchy throat. Thank the deities that the elevator has started functioning. He doubts that he can hold out for much longer.

Behind him, Tsubasa guffaws, wiping the corners of his eyes. "That was admittedly the _best _screamfest I've ever seen."

Natsume, in his exhaustion, doesn't make a snarky comeback. He's just too mentally drained to come up with an intelligible comment. Pressing his face further against the pillow, he inhales to clear his mind of any unnecessary junk. Tsubasa pokes his side and he grunts in annoyance.

"Don't be such a killjoy, Natsume. You had fun."

"Yeah," Natsume bites back sarcastically, flipping himself on his back for greater comfort. Tsubasa hovers over his face curiously, and he flicks his forehead to drive him away. "I don't need you to remind me of my failures in life."

"You're taking it way too seriously," Tsubasa chuckles. "Everybody has fears."

"I'm not scared of Halloween, damn it."

"Halloween, no. But closed spaces, definitely," Tsubasa pokes him again. It takes several minutes for Natsume to take into account that Tsubasa is a very observant guy, no matter how much his appearance deems that quality unthinkable for him. "Yeah, I noticed. Misaki pointed it out, too."

"Don't bring your girlfriend into this," Natsume shrugs. "If you're looking for someone to seek relationship advice from, you're in the wrong place."

Tsubasa has to hold his stomach as he begins to laugh hysterically. Natsume glares at him. "What is it now?"

"She's not my girlfriend, Sherlock," Tsubasa grins. "She's practically my sister. We grew up in the same village and hell would freeze over before I ask her out. She drives me nuts!"

"Good," Natsume involuntarily responds. When he realizes what he said, he averts his eyes to avoid getting caught. He has no idea what prompted him to say what he did. It's probably just the effects of being horrified to death.

Luckily, Tsubasa doesn't question him. He walks to his bed, still smiling at Natsume's unintentional joke. "Well, good night, Natsume!"

Natsume doesn't fall asleep until hours later, and he's glad that Tsubasa doesn't have any nightmares.

* * *

University kills him, taking away all of his 'alone time' and forcing him to participate. Natsume doesn't like to participate, much less talk to other living beings. It's unfortunate enough that he has to learn socialization in college even if it doesn't earn him any credits. Even the smartest people he knows are boomboxes at night; every Friday, there is always a party at someone's house. Natsume imagines that it's the stereotypical wild evening with Never Have I Ever, red cups, sudden pregnancies, and hash brownies involved.

Good thing that the Biology club prefers to lay low. Sumire is the only one who doesn't reside in the dorms and is renting an apartment across the street. On the Friday two weeks before finals, she calls everyone over for a get-together. In addition. she instructs some of them to bring movies in case it turns into marathon night. Natsume knows very well that most of them will bring Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter. Somebody who is generous enough might even purchase Breaking Bad for the rest of them.

The members are out of funds, having spent all of their money on club dues and lunch. Natsume would never volunteer, so he pretends that he's only on one scholarship.

Mikan has her hair up in a bun tonight. "So," she mutters, looking at the members sitting on the carpet in a circle. "What do you guys want to do?"

"Seven minutes in heaven is lame," Ruka says sheepishly. "Truth or Dare, even lamer."

"How 'bout beer pong?" Mochu inquires, and Sumire's hand hits the back of his head. "_Ow, _okay. Do you have Monopoly around here?"

"I'm pretty sure it'll end up in a fistfight," somebody named Tono snickers. "But bring it on."

"I never said I had Monopoly," Sumire wriggles her index finger.

"Let's just go with Spin the Bottle, seems like the least messy game there is," Tsubasa suggests. "No one's going to have sex or whatever, and pecking is allowed."

How unsophisticated of him. No matter what Natsume thinks, the others agree. Natsume can't deny that he's nervous. He's the only freshman, after all. They seem to have played this before on several occasions. Koko fishes an empty wine bottle from his backpack.

"How the hell did you get that?" Anna widens her eyes. Koko snorts.

"Experiment in Chem class. The prof was kind enough to give it to me after I received full marks." He positions the bottle in the middle and spins it, not paying attention to everybody else's arguments to go first. He smiles at them apologetically until the bottle lands on Nonoko. The girl mumbles, "Pssh," when Koko crawls to her and kisses her on the cheek.

Basically, it's a harmless little game. Natsume convinces himself that he's just stressing it over.

Nonoko grasps the bottle for the next round. "Let's change it up a little," she says. "You have to tell the person that you'll kiss something that you've wanted to tell them for so long."

Good, because Natsume will just have to say, "I wouldn't like to kiss you but they say I should. I'm sorry."

Nonoko takes her turn and kisses Mikan on the nose. She knows that Mikan is ticklish there. "No fair," Mikan laughs. She spins the bottle and gets the chance to smooch Rui, a seemingly feminine senior male, on the lips. He doesn't seem to mind it because he pets Mikan soon after Mikan says, "I wondered how it would be like if I were your sister."

Many rounds pass until Anna has the opportunity to kiss Tsubasa. She turns beet-red. Her admiration for him is too obvious. The others chant a countdown to ten seconds before they force her to engage in a French kiss with Tsubasa. Frantically, Anna looks for a spot where she could press her lips against without completely disintegrating into mush. She hastily grabs Tsubasa's hand and kisses his palm with a smack. "I...I think you're awesome!"

"What the heck was that?" Mochu cackles until Sumire slaps him across the back, making him choke on his own breath.

"Shut up," Ruka laughs. "It's Tsubasa's turn, I wonder whom his victim will be."

Tsubasa takes it as his cue to spin the bottle. Natsume's heartbeat speeds up.

Tsubasa smirks at him as the tip of the bottle points towards the shorter male. Their other friends, if Natsume considers them as such, coo. "This is gonna be interesting," someone on Natsume's left says, but he doesn't bother to see who it is when his gaze is fixed on Tsubasa. The latter kneels before him and looks him in the eye.

He says, "One. Two."

"What?" Natsume groans. As always, he's clueless about the enigmas that Tsubasa utters.

"Three. Four. Five."

Mochu joins in on the countdown, and Natsume freezes what he realizes that Tsubasa is waiting for the penalty period. "Jesus Christ," he shoves Tsubasa away from him, but Tsubasa only captures his wrists easily. He has to curse the football gods later. "Six. Seven. Eight. Nine."

Tsubasa puts his palm against Natsume's cheek just as he leans in. Natsume closes his eyes, bracing himself for the worst. His usual instinct would be to run away, but his legs are immobile underneath him. He can't move. Maybe he doesn't want to, either.

"Ten."

Natsume expects it to be slow and deliberate, but Tsubasa presses his lips against his quickly and firmly. After a few seconds, Natsume feels something wet — _a tongue _— coaxing him to open his mouth. He struggles under Tsubasa's hold, but the sound he makes comes off as a soft moan. When he couldn't breathe anymore, Natsume parts his lips to breathe, but Tsubasa fills it, roaming inside Natsume's mouth.

"Ooh," a bunch of murmurs resound. Natsume wants it to stop. He...he just can't. Tsubasa's strength to hold him down is one thing, but his will isn't exactly made of iron, either. Natsume groans at the contact — _he's too close and god it feels good but _— and Tsubasa breaks away, finally allowing him to inhale sharply. Tsubasa grins at the flushed face Natsume is making. "I like you."

The ringing in Natsume's ears intensifies. His eyes scan Sumire's living room, and there all of his friends are, open-mouthed at the confession. Unable to take more of this bullshit, Natsume stands up groggily. "I need air."

"Wait —"

Natsume dashes for the door, and doesn't look back.

He hears footsteps. They're Tsubasa's, without a doubt, but he keeps running to nowhere. Anywhere but here. He's been messed up too much, too humiliated to face anyone again. "Natsume!" Tsubasa calls out, but he grits his teeth and wills his feet to race faster. He sees lights, and —

A car honks at him, and his chest constricts from the sudden jerk of his arm. Tsubasa has pulled him away. "H-holy shit," Tsubasa exhales, "you nearly died."

"Let go of me," Natsume snaps. "You sick fuck, don't you dare to touch me again."

"But —"

"I _hate _you," Natsume sputters, boiling rage resting dangerously on the tip of his tongue. "I fucking hate you, you no-good bastard. Don't play with me."

"I'm not playing with you," Tsubasa pleads, worry written all over his face. "I meant it."

"I don't like you. If you don't get it, I detest every bit of you," Natsume hisses. Something in this thoracic cavity aches like it has been submerged in acid. "I thought I could deal with you, but you proved me wrong. Again. That kiss was nothing. It was a fucking joke designed to embarrass me, wasn't it?"

Silence engulfs them, and Natsume could listen to his huffs all day if it meant getting Tsubasa out of his face.

Tsubasa finally responds, and his face has paled under the streetlight. He murmurs, "Then why did you kiss me back, Natsume? If you hated — _hate _me so much, then why?"

Natsume has no answer. His throat has suddenly stopped working.

He leaves it at that, and storms off to the dorms without another word.

* * *

Natsume has improved his lying abilities since Day One. He shifts in his bed, faking irritation at Tsubasa's noises when he cries in his sleep. He has the urge to stand up and pat Tsubasa even if he is his senior. There's just something wrong when Tsubasa sounds helpless like that.

"Kaname," Tsubasa mumbles restlessly. "Please don't leave. Please. Please. Please."

About to go out of his mind, Natsume grabs his pillow and covers his face with it. Tsubasa doesn't cease from talking in his nightmare. "Please. Don't. Don't leave me, Natsume."

Natsume releases a shaky breath when _Kaname _turns into _Natsume, _but he just couldn't face Tsubasa. Not after all of that.

He forces himself to sleep and ignores Tsubasa's agonizing sobs, until he could only sense that his own cheeks are damp.

* * *

"You little asshole," Misaki grabs Natsume's collar one day in the secluded field. Natsume happens to pass by when Misaki comes out of nowhere, face contorted in what seems like disgust. "Fucking freshman, who do you think you are?"

"It's not my fault your gay friend forced himself on me," Natsume replies coolly. So far, he's been successful at keeping his voice devoid of remorse.

"You're just like those homophobic fucktards," Misaki snarls, fist poised for attack. Still, Natsume maintains his blank expression. "You just had to say it like that. Have you seen him during practice? He's zoning out. Got scolded by coach a million times before he was kicked out of the field for not being in his best shape. His scholarship is on the line."

"It's not my fault," Natsume repeats dully, "that he likes me."

"You could've turned him down a little more nicely. Anything that doesn't involve making him slip into depression."

"It's not my responsibility if he can't get a hold of himself."

"You're his _roommate._"

Natsume clucks his tongue in annoyance. "My contract didn't say anything about being a nanny."

"Fuck you," Misaki mutters. "I should've warned him against people like you. You're dumb when it comes to emotions. You can't read people."

"That's not valid enough to change me."

"You should at least apologize to him." Misaki's eyes are bloodshot.

Natsume shakes his head and brushes Misaki's hand off from his neck. He walks away. "He should apologize to _me._"

* * *

"Nah, we're all good," Tsubasa laughs, knocking Natsume over with an arm. He ruffles his hair, to which Natsume responds with a steely gaze. "I understand that he just wants us to be friends. Don't beat him to a pulp, Misaki."

Misaki rolls her eyes at the quick making up. "Whatever you say."

Natsume is grateful for Tsubasa's excellent acting, and is still worried about him. He doesn't voice it out and elbows Tsubasa in his side. Tsubasa squawks, "Geez, you're too violent. If only you weren't as thin as you are now, you could be playing a deadly football game." Natsume catches a glimpse of Mikan and Ruka passing by the hallway, and they question him with their mere looks. The brunette drags Ruka along to the three and waves at them as a greeting.

"So, whatever happened that night," Ruka cautiously says, "it's been settled?"

"Yeah," Natsume replies. He looks over to Tsubasa for backup. The latter nods cheerfully.

Tsubasa imitates Mikan's thumb up, and Mikan smiles, glad that the old Tsubasa is back. "Definitely! He whacked me with a book and knocked some sense into me. I was just out of it during that week."

Natsume clenches his fist at the lie. He should be happy that Tsubasa is covering for him, but he feels like someone is stabbing him without abandon.

"Good to know," Ruka smiles. Both Mikan and him bid their goodbyes as they head for class.

Natsume looks at Tsubasa one last time, and the star tattoo on his cheek crinkles on his cheek as his lips stretch into a cheshire grin. "What? You're gonna be late for class, smartass."

Pretension is their best solution. At least there'll be no visible scars in front of everybody else. "You too, dumbass."

* * *

Natsume stops in his tracks when he hears lewd noises from his room.

Carefully, he turns the knob and opens the door only slightly to peek at the occurrence inside. He swears under his breath when he sees clothes on the floor — a skimpy skirt and a tank top, to be precise — and in that moment, he barges in.

Tsubasa has his hands on a girl's hips as he licks a long line down her throat. "Mm," the girl murmurs, drawing him closer.

"Get the fuck out."

Breaking away from his ecstasy, Tsubasa looks heavy-lidded when he turns to the sound of Natsume's growl. Natsume has thrown his backpack to his own bed and is heading for them. He kicks the clothes on the floor, eyebrows furrowing when the girl sits up. She yawns in boredom. "Is this the freshman you were so unlucky to be roommates with, Tsubasa?"

Tsubasa doesn't speak at first, but when he does, it knocks the wind out of Natsume. "Yeah, he is. Obviously he's never been in action before."

Natsume tastes something vile. He keeps his silence and waits for them to leave.

"Could I have him next?" the girl asks hopefully. Natsume mutters a string of curses.

Once more, what Tsubasa says steals Natsume's breath. "Maybe. He doesn't have any experience whatsoever, so I doubt that he could even make you moan."

"Aw, that's a pity."

"Get," Natsume snarls, "the fuck out of here. If you want to screw around, there's a lot of motels around the city where nobody will give a damn if you scream."

"Chill," Tsubasa laughs. He _laughs. _He even has the audacity to say that to Natsume's face. "We're leaving, anyway. Don't wanna disturb you while you jack off on your own."

"Get out. _Get out,_" Natsume shouts, grabbing Tsubasa by his shirt and shoving him to the floor. He drags the half-naked girl by her arm and gives her the same treatment, exposing her to the corridor of the dorm. His voice breaks as he stares at Tsubasa with fury. "You're one to talk, you fag."

"Jesus," Tsubasa chortles. "You still aren't aware that I was toying with you during Spin the Bottle, are you? I kind of feel sorry for you."

"Don't lie to my face," Natsume spits. "We both know you were having nightmares about me."

"Oh, little Natsume with his delusions," Tsubasa says, drawling out every syllable to make the impact more significant. "There's a huge world out there, and it won't be nice for you. It won't always be real. You have to learn not to fall for everything. You can't trust anyone around here, not even me."

"For the last time," Natsume says as he lowers his head in an attempt to block what Tsubasa says and looks like while he's at it. "Get out of here. Nobody needs you. This is probably why Kaname died. He couldn't bear to be in the same room as your filth."

Knowing that he struck a chord, Natsume looks up, hoping to evoke pain within Tsubasa. Tsubasa only shrugs. "It was his time. It's not my fault he forgot how to breathe."

When Tsubasa still doesn't move an inch, Natsume strides over to him and kneels, taking his collar again. "You're a terrible liar," Natsume says. "And you can go fuck yourself."

Without thinking, Natsume lands a blow on Tsubasa's cheekbone, and in spite of his bleeding wound, Tsubasa bestows him a wolfish grin. "You're getting better at this."

* * *

Natsume stays up until six am playing AC and ends up wrecking his controller. He's on his tenth cup of coffee, and he doesn't even make an effort to look at the mirror. He knows that his reflection will be terrible. His plan is to pretend that he's sick to skip class, but decides against it. He's not in the mood for lying.

By accident, he glances at his calendar. It's the 23rd of November, four days away from his birthday. Never mind that he has no one to celebrate it with. He'll just buy another game for himself later. It's been two months since he last spotted Tsubasa in their room. The guy is probably sneaking in and out for clothes.

There's also a tiny note scribbled under the numbers 2 and 3. He squints, eyes still worn out from an all-nighter.

Natsume reads it aloud to make sure that he digests the information. "Test on Microbiology Ch. 9-12, 150 points."

"Test on Microbiology," he repeats. Natsume could do nothing but slam his forehead on the study table. "Shit, I'm screwed."

He showers for five minutes and throws on his normal winter attire. He tries to recall the histology slides in his head, but all that comes up is the history that comprises AC and the lasting memory of Tsubasa displaying his immoral actions in their room. Natsume grunts, rubbing his eyes sleepily as he trips on his bag.

He has to ask if any of his classmates have spare pencils, because he unknowingly brings a ballpoint pen to the testing room.

Natsume's professor notices his sluggishness and asks if he is okay.

He insists that he is, in spite of being the opposite.

* * *

"Natsume, you can tell us what's wrong. We're your friends," Mikan says. Natsume's head is on the table. The librarian looks towards their direction and gestures for them to keep quiet.

Ruka smiles sheepishly at her and turns back to Natsume and Mikan. "Yeah. We're aware that you've been out of it lately."

"You won't understand," Natsume responds in a hoarse voice.

"Then tell us so we can understand," Mikan murmurs. "'I know that you and Tsubasa haven't overcome your differences yet, and that's affecting your academic performance. What did you get for the previous test in Micro?"

"A fucking F," Natsume bitterly laughs. "One point away from a D. At least I got more than 40 percent."

"See? Normally, you wouldn't have laughed about it. You would've gone out there and hated yourself for it."

Natsume glares at her. "Should I hate myself for things that others should be blamed for?"

"You should've studied. It's no one else's fault but yours," Mikan skeptically says.

"Fine. Tell me how to concentrate on studies when I see and hear my roommate fuck a random girl in our room, badmouth me for my 'inexperience', and tell me that his fucking confession was a lie. That it's his kind of senior prank. He even goes as far as shaming his grief for his previous roommate."

"Wait, what?" Ruka blurts out, earning a grimace from the librarian. "He lied about the Spin the Bottle stuff?"

Mikan purses her lips. She exhales a few moments later. "He lied about Kaname, too."

"You know him?" Natsume looks up from his position and notices that Mikan has stilled.

"Of course," Mikan says, trembling from what seems like anger. "He's my stepbrother. He died from a chronic lung disease."

Natsume could only gape at her. That is why Mikan appears to be quite fond of Tsubasa. He mutters, "I'm sorry."

"No, don't be," Mikan waves him off. "It's been a long time. I don't want to bring up bad memories, but it's just that Kaname is — I mean, _was _Tsubasa's best friend. They're sidekicks, partners in crime, whatever you want to call them. I'm guessing from the way he disregards Kaname's importance to him, you're much more important. He's devastated, Natsume."

Ruka and Mikan stare at him expectantly. Ruka's fingers drum against the table. "You should probably apologize to him."

"No way," Natsume replies in reflex. "I'm not the one who caused the damage. It's not my fault I don't like him."

"You don't have to like him," Ruka raises his arms in exasperation. "Just say sorry and get this over with. It doesn't feel good to be in a tense atmosphere."

"I can't do any of that," Natsume snaps.

"Why the hell not?"

"I don't even know where he is."

* * *

Apparently, divine intervention favors Natsume. Three days after his conversation with Mikan and Ruka, he decides to go to a secluded shopping district that earned a name of "Central Town" from his father back in his childhood. During the transition from November to December, Natsume's father would take him and Aoi to the game store in Central Town and give them fifty dollars each to purchase a videogame for themselves. It isn't exactly spoiling the both of them — that is the only time of the year that they buy expensive presents for themselves. Holidays and birthdays are only celebrated with small cakes.

Due to a spike in the weather, Natsume has to wear three layers of clothing. He almost thinks he's anorexic because he's too thin for his own good. The moment he steps out of the dorm, he rubs his nose and ears to keep the warmth and hails a taxi to take him to Central Town. He doesn't really like the subway. He feels too small in it.

Burying his nose in the scarf, Natsume trudges on the cobblestone paths. He can barely lift his gaze under the onslaught of snow. The cold has always been one of the things he's hated the most. It seems too lonely during the winter. The game store is the third one on his right, and as he swings the door open, the windchimes clink against each other.

Natsume finds the latest CoD game on the front shelf, along with a GTA5 that's on sale for the Christmas shoppers. At least he timed his visit correctly.

After he pays for his items, he steps out of the store, eyes becoming blurry from the whiteout.

He heads to the bus stop, completely aware that he's running low on cash to ride a taxi. A few things have changed, including the structure of the waiting shed and the street lamps over his head. Central Town is getting busy due to the approaching holidays. Natsume accidentally bumps into a woman with ten shopping bags and quickly bows without actually muttering an apology. He loses his train of thought and glances around in an effort to be attentive.

He spots a familiar boy.

Tsubasa is covered in grime, lugging cargo boxes behind him as he sneezes in the cold. He's only wearing a sweatshirt, his face already ridiculously red from the temperature. Natsume just stands in the middle of the crowd, staring at Tsubasa. His mind comes up with a million questions, all of which he wants answered and none that he can ask out loud.

The most important one being: why on Earth has Tsubasa stopped going to classes, and why is he here?

Natsume turns around, too hesitant to come any closer. Their situation isn't something that could be resolved by a mere meet and greet. Nothing he would say would make it better for the both of them.

"Natsume!"

_Shit. _

He walks faster, because he knows that voice all too well that if he doesn't stop his feet, he will surely head towards Tsubasa's direction. It's his survival tactic, after all: when all else fails, evade the sources of danger and continue on pretending that they don't exist. His videogames have taught him the opposite, reminding him time and time again that he won't advance to the next checkpoint if he doesn't go out there and risk it all.

"Hey, Natsume, wait!" Tsubasa runs after him, and his hand is on Natsume's shoulder in no time. He huffs from the biting cold and his teeth noticeably chatter.

Natsume refuses to meet his gaze when Tsubasa speaks. "What are you doing here?"

After waiting for a proper response, Tsubasa receives a flat reply. "I bought videogames."

"Oh," Tsubasa sighs. "It's been a long time since I last saw you."

"Hn."

Tsubasa begins to stuff his hands in his pockets as he shivers. A snowflake lands on his nose, and he brushes it away. "I know I've been an asshole, but please...just talk to me, Natsume."

"What am I supposed to say?" Natsume coldly mutters.

"Look," Tsubasa says, "I just wanted to tell you that I'm working here part-time, because Coach took me off of the football team."

"Who ever said that I wanted to know?"

Tsubasa presses further. "I was a mess. Got into an alcohol overload because that was the only way I could avoid my nightmares." _It's also the only way I can pretend our argument never happened, _is left unspoken. "I'm really sorry about all of the things that happened. You could punch me right here." Natsume briefly stares at him, specifically at the bruise that he himself had caused.

"Forget about it," Natsume says. "I don't really care. It's not that significant for me to be obsessed over it."

Tsubasa makes a pitiful noise at the back of his throat. "Natsume, I just want us to be friends."

"We already are. Have we stopped being friends?" Natsume questions him to throw him off the edge. His query is also directed at himself.

"Why can't you even look me in the eye? I know I'm a disgusting jerk who doesn't deserve your sympathy. I just want us to start on a new page. I'm a liar, a weak and terrible one. I called you derogatory names. But I know that I can't handle it if things didn't go back to the way they were."

"Maybe it's better this way."

"No, it's not," Tsubasa groans in frustration. "At least, not for me. I've wrecked your college life for you. I want to make up for it."

"You can't," Natsume narrows his eyes.

"I'll stop liking you." Tsubasa raises his hand solemnly, as if keeping a promise. Natsume is caught surprised. There it is again, the sickly feeling in his stomach — he wants to say 'don't', but he doesn't know why. "I promise. If it disgusts you so much. I just don't want you to leave and stay out of my life. Too many people have already left."

"Then teach yourself how to not get attached easily," Natsume winces when his voice nearly breaks at the end of his sentence. He jerks when Tsubasa coughs, his cheeks already tinted with red from staying too long out in the cold.

"Natsume, please. Just friends. Isn't that enough?"

Mikan's statements reverberate in Natsume's head. If Natsume were in his right state of mind, he would've jumped to the bus and ignored Tsubasa's pleas. He must be crazy for bringing up his conscience. Tsubasa frustrates him to no end, leaving him to no choice but this.

"Fine," Natsume mumbles, removing his scarf from his neck. Tsubasa frowns at the action until Natsume hits him in the face with the woolen cloth. "At least put something on. You'll die if you keep this up."

Tsubasa doesn't say anything in shock, and he watches as Natsume sprints away, leaving a trail of snowed in footsteps on cobblestone and disappearing among the hordes of strangers.

* * *

_What the fuck was that? _Natsume paces around the room. He's never been one for moving while thinking, but today is an exception especially with the events that unfolded. Sure, he didn't really apologize straight-on, but he might as well have starred in a romantic drama with his cliched gestures. What happened to his cool and logical head, the one that shut off all of his emotions and tucked them away in a location he could never seek?

There are signs of Tsubasa everywhere — his pictures on the wall, his band posters, his computer, his bed, his scent. Natsume hates all of Tsubasa's possessions because they all suffocate him. He can feel his palpitations, and he sits down unconsciously on Tsubasa's bed. Something is wrong with him. His fingers trail over his forehead to check for a fever, but warmth is radiating only from his cheeks.

Natsume curses himself some more, until he rubs his eyes tiredly and notes how soft and comfortable Tsubasa's pillow is. He wonders how anybody can have nightmares with it underneath their heads.

He falls asleep slowly, and he can't bring himself to care when the door opens.

He hasn't even opened his videogames yet.

How unusual of him.

* * *

Monday morning, Natsume finds Tsubasa on his desk noisily slurping from a milk carton. Relief courses through him. From what he's heard (Misaki, he decides, is a reliable source), Tsubasa is back on the football team. There's an upcoming game by the beginning of the spring semester. Natsume has never watched a football game before, not even on TV, because he assumes that it will bore the hell out of him. Maybe next year, he would welcome some changes in his life.

As always, Mikan and Ruka are always snooping around. Natsume doesn't mind when they flash him wide grins and thumbs up for his reconciliation with Tsubasa. Not that he's talked to Tsubasa like he used to, but the both of them could at least look at each other properly.

Natsume doesn't even remove his shoes when he arrives at the dorms, too exhausted by the lab practicals that he had undergone. Going over the regular number of credits isn't necessarily a bad idea, but taking four upper-level and non-general education biology courses all at once drains him. He lies on his back and stares at the spotless ceiling to rest his eyes for a while, until the door to the bathroom creaks open.

Now that he thinks about it, Natsume hasn't seen Tsubasa step out of the shower. They've been living in the same room for months, but it's either Natsume goes to class early or Tsubasa sleeps in for the rest of the day. Clad only in a towel, Tsubasa shakes his damp hair and waves at Natsume, toothbrush jumping around his mouth.

Natsume looks away in an instant. He shouldn't feel weird after seeing Tsubasa half-naked with his torso dripping with water, but he does. "Don't walk around like that, you idiot."

Tsubasa chooses not to argue further and hurries back to the showers. It's cold, after all.

Although only given a second to spare a glimpse at Tsubasa's build, Natsume has to admit that he's pretty toned for a football player. For someone who has a decent muscular figure, Tsubasa is too soft when it comes to emotions. However, Natsume can't deny that he looks good like that, all fresh from —

He groans into his bedsheets. He's not gay or anything. He's not even bisexual as far as he knows, yet why can't he erase the image of Tsubasa's body from his mind?

Tsubasa tiptoes out of the bathroom again, already in a robe to adhere to Natsume's instructions. He's the senior, but he's incredibly sensitive to the freshman's opinions. He gets back at him with his retorts. "Did you like what you saw?"

Natsume hisses at him, but mainly at himself. Tsubasa laughs quietly, knowing that they're both just starting over and he shouldn't go too far with his jokes.

* * *

"Finals week," Ruka says in a solemn tone, "is a period in which all of us consider the possibility of suicide. I might have to warn you that Tokyo U isn't a good location for jumping off the roof. If you have a flair for drama, you can go someplace else with scenery. However, we can always accept corpses for our projects. Thank you."

"Creepy motherfucker," Tono snorts.

Anna agrees. "That's not...very nice."

"Gross," Koko adds.

Mikan claps her hands to gain the attention of the club. "A semester has gone by like a breeze, and we haven't delved into our research yet. I know that all of us will have hectic schedules this coming week, and it's gonna be difficult, especially for you, Natsume." She eyes Natsume closely. "I wish you all the best. In case you have problems or issues regarding your biology courses, don't hesitate to approach me!"

"We should definitely set up study groups for people who can't focus on their own," Rui suggests. "Myself included in that group. I just doze off whenever I have to think about comparative vertebrae."

"Same goes for me," Sumire sighs, twirling her finger around a strand of permed hair.

"I have a bad feeling that your study sessions will turn into chitchats," Nonoko says with a wry grin. She's experienced 'studying' with Sumire before, and all they ever did was paint each other's nails. The reason was to cut some slack for themselves. In the end, they still got A's.

"I'll pass," Natsume says. "I study better when I'm alone."

After the voting, it is decided that only five members of the Biology club will be meeting up at the library every 5 pm to study together, all of whom share the same classes. Tsubasa won't be available during the sessions due to football practice. They go for another round of wishing each other the best of luck and holding prayer circles, before heading out to their respective dorms and abodes.

Tsubasa tags along with Natsume, who paces faster to avoid any conversations. The effort is deemed futile when Tsubasa tackles him, and Natsume shouts in surprise and reflexively shoves Tsubasa to the ground. They fall together on a pile of snow.

Natsume shakes his head from any snowflakes and accidentally brushes his nose against Tsubasa's. Tsubasa's eyes bore into his.

He stiffens. Then swallows. Then reddens. Not that he can see his reflection on Tsubasa's face, but his cheeks are getting awfully warm.

Hastily, Natsume stands up, mindful of his weight on Tsubasa. He looks away. "That wasn't intentional."

"I know," Tsubasa says, dusting off the white particles on his jacket. Silence hangs around them until Tsubasa breaks the ice. He grins. "Come on, we're going to freeze out here."

They walk in the calm, and Natsume can feel Tsubasa's eyes on him.

* * *

Tsubasa stretches his arms after hours of packing his belongings. He's almost done, save for a few items in his bedside drawer and the pictures on his wall. He doubts that he needs to take them down because he's returning next semester. It's his last one, after all.

"Where are you spending the holidays?" Tsubasa asks. He stuffs a set of socks into a backpack and winces when he can't pull the zipper close.

"Home," Natsume says, not looking away from his monitor. Good thing he's already finished with all of his luggage some weeks before finals. It always pays to not delay his duties.

"Where's home?" Tsubasa inquires further, ignoring Natsume's sarcasm.

"Someplace you shouldn't concern yourself with."

Tsubasa giggles with his deep bass, face scrunching up at the ridiculousness of Natsume's answers. Natsume finds himself wanting more of Tsubasa's laughter. "Seriously, the year's ending and you couldn't force yourself to be merry? Geez, Natsume. A lot of people would probably after you if you smiled more often."

"I'm not looking for a relationship," Natsume shrugs, and the bitter taste in his tongue is a sign that he's lying. "I'm here to study and not to collect as many exes as I can." The topic is too touchy for him to say more, and Tsubasa knows it, too. However, Tsubasa has always been audacious, even if he does get in trouble for his bravery.

"Haven't you ever had a girlfriend before?" Tsubasa places emphasis on the word 'girl', earning a glare from Natsume.

"Where's home for you, then?" Natsume evades the question and pauses his game to stare at Tsubasa, who puts away another full bag.

"Chikirishima in the south," Tsubasa says. "Misaki and I will be leaving on the 23rd. Her parents are inviting my family over for Christmas eve."

"I see."

Natsume's response is the conclusion to the one of the last conversations they will ever have this semester, and they don't talk for hours except when Natsume logs into his university account and checks on his grades. He frowns at his B in Microbiology, the lone one in his roster of A's, and grinds his teeth at himself as he promises to do better in the spring. Tsubasa exclaims in glee when he views his grades on his phone. "Holy shit, this is the best Christmas present eveeeeeeer. I got straight A's, damn it how did this even happen —"

If they were back in high school, Natsume would've thrown a fit and walked out of the room from envy. However, he only offers Tsubasa a small smile, which makes the taller male stop dancing around mindlessly. "Congrats."

"T-thanks," Tsubasa stutters, shock evident in his expression. "Natsume?"

"Yeah?"

"I told you, a lot of people will fall for you when you smile like that."

Natsume doesn't answer him and focuses on the monitor, thinking _There it is again _when he feels his lungs constricting and his heart rate speeding up.

Of course he isn't stupid enough not to realize that the tables have turned. It's the idiot's fault for being too likable for his own good.

* * *

Just in time for the end of the semester, the dorm elevator malfunctions again, and Natsume is stuck with Tsubasa dragging their baggage down the fire exit. He huffs, already exhausted even if he's not supposed to be. Going down has never been a problem for him, but now that there are more students complaining and carrying their humongous backpacks, he feels small, like the walls are going to collapse on him any moment now.

Tsubasa notices that he has paled. He grabs some of Natsume's bags and nods in understanding of Natsume's situation. Natsume tries to argue, but slowly inhales to clear his mind of any panic.

They eventually reach the door in about twenty minutes, panting from the seven-floor journey. Natsume buries his face in the bags as Tsubasa returns their keys to the lady at the front desk. He fishes his gloves from his coat and puts them on, along with the earmuffs that his mother gave him. The two of them step out of the building and open their mouths in sync to watch the puffs of smoke appear and vanish soon after.

"Winter's so beautiful," Tsubasa starts, staring ahead at the whiteout. "But it's also so lonely."

"I guess there's always a compromise," Natsume says, flicking off a snowflake from his eyelid.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Tsubasa squeaks, dropping to his knees on the ground to dig for something in the depths of his backpack. He pulls out the scarf that Natsume gave him before and stands up. Without hesitation, he wraps it around Natsume's neck slowly and gently, slightly brushing Natsume's face with his nimble fingers. "Thanks for this. I already washed it, so you don't have to worry."

Natsume doesn't say a word, cherishing Tsubasa's light touches. He looks up at his face, at his crinkling eyes, at his star-shaped tattoo, at his goofy smile. He removes the scarf from its place and reaches over for Tsubasa. Tsubasa opens his mouth in surprise as Natsume wraps the scarf around his neck instead. "I don't need this. I'm warm enough. You can have it."

He feels Tsubasa's arms snaking around his hips, holding him closer. This time, he doesn't fight back.

Tsubasa smiles — out of happiness or sadness, Natsume doesn't know. "I'm going to miss you so much, Natsume."

Natsume just stares at him as the words spill, and he closes his eyes when Tsubasa draws near, angling his face so their noses can brush against each other. Tsubasa falters for a while, and Natsume groans, yanking at the ends of his scarf in lack of patience. Their lips collide, and although it's like the first time, something has changed a bit. Tsubasa takes Natsume's face in his hands as Natsume pulls him.

Natsume doesn't even care about his surroundings anymore. It isn't anyone's business if he feels right pressed up against Tsubasa's chest like this, heaving and smiling, even if he doesn't show it to Tsubasa himself. Tsubasa leaves a chaste kiss on the top of Natsume's head. "I'm sorry I lied so many times...it's just that I really can't stop liking you, Natsume. Heck, I think I might even be in love with you."

"Too early to say that," Natsume murmurs. The sight of the bus catches his attention, and he breaks away from Tsubasa's arms gently.

Tsubasa holds Natsume's hands for a bit to keep them warm. "So, see you next semester?"

Natsume picks his bags up and gazes into Tsubasa's eyes for what seems like forever. "Yeah," he says. "Don't have nightmares in my absence."

"I'll remember that," Tsubasa laughs. "Don't fall for anyone while I'm not there, okay?"

"Don't worry, you idiot," the corners of Natsume's lips curve up as he boards on the bus. "I'll make sure I won't."

* * *

"So, guys," Ruka clears his throat. "I take it you're together."

"Not really."

"Don't listen to him. He just said yes, yesterday."

Mikan giggles, as if she has planned it all along. "You two are so adorable."

"Shut up."

"Now, Natsume, you can't say that to someone who's older than you," Tsubasa warns.

Koko snorts. "Psh, bunch of ga —"

Sumire elbows him in the gut and effectively zips his mouth. "Congrats on being the first couple in the Biology club!"

"Um, I guess this is where we come in," Anna says, her hands shaking.

"Yeah, we're together, too!" Mochu places an arm around Anna, who turns beet-red.

"We are, too," Tono and Rui echo happily.

Nonoko casts a sideways glance at a silent boy named Yuu. "Would it be a crime if we admitted that we've been going out for the past two months?"

"Don't tell me we set up a dating club instead of one that actually deals with science," Ruka groans.

On the other hand, Koko recovers from the pain in his abdomen and stares at Sumire. "Hey, wanna get together, too? I don't wanna be left out."

"Jesus," Natsume rolls his eyes.

Sumire does the same, and inflicts twice as much physical pain to Koko as she did earlier. "Never."

Mikan claps in the midst of the cacophony in their meeting room. "Alright, I give you all my blessing!"

"Sure," Natsume mutters.

Tsubasa slaps his back. "_Natsume._"

"We could just head back home and avoid all this noise," Natsume grumbles, still flustered from the announcement of their relationship. He tosses the keys to room 7B to Tsubasa, who catches them with ease.

"Home," Tsubasa snickers. "I like the sound of that."

* * *

_Remember our glory days? _

_They aren't over yet._

* * *

**the beginning.**


End file.
